Hunger Pangs
by Threaded Needles
Summary: Jaime is searching for more and more excuses to not go out anywhere with his friends where there might be food. One day volunteering at the animal shelter, he knows he's found the perfect one. [Anorexia] [Mentions of Sexual Assault]
1. Chapter 1

French was utterly useless. He already knew how to speak two languages perfectly fine and now he was regretting letting his counselor talk him into learning a third. It better look really fucking good on his resume for the headache he was going through.

The teacher- or Madame, as she insisted on being called- dismissed them after the test they were taking over conversational French. That was supposed to be the easy stuff and he had sweated through the entire thing attempting to correctly write out the forms of a 'common' sentence.

"Jaime!"

Shit. He forgot that Bart had a free hour this period. He just stuck around the college because it was too hard to walk back and forth to his place without a car. So he just smiled and waved and hoped Bart would leave him in peace to finish writing his ten page paper for Composition 2.

Yeah, like that would ever happen. "Tim wanted to know if you wanted to go out to eat with us tonight. It's going to be like a huge group so-"

"Can't, sorry," He interrupted and Bart's smile disappeared in half a millisecond.

"Dude, why not? Is it cause of the group? I mean, it can just be me, you and Tim if you want, but I thought-"

"I'm, uh, volunteering at an animal shelter. Probably every day this month too, you know how I love kittens," He said, and it was so obvious he was lying through his teeth because he hated cats with burning passion. Bart however took the bait so obliviously and nodded with a smile and told him to have fun while running off towards his lecture class.

"Thank god," Jaime whispered, collapsing onto a bench and pulling out his laptop to get to work.

* * *

After his last class of the day, he packs his stuff up and heads over to the animal shelter. Bart was well known for stumbling drunk into his apartment at any hour and he didn't want to try and explain why he wasn't grooming cats and bathing dogs to an extremely intoxicated Bart.

The animal shelter was a quiet, small building with bright lights and rooms that were sectioned off for animals. It was a no kill shelter, the only one in the area.  
A woman had him sign in at the front desk and he let out a sigh of relief he didn't know anyone already there personally. She instructed him to help take the dogs out on a walk and he begrudgingly put collars on a terrier and a beagle alongside a guy who looked like he was about ready to pop a vein.

He was probably there for community service. Animal shelters were a popular place for people who needed to work off hours for whatever petty crime they committed. After the dogs were finally worn out from chasing and yapping at each other and they were allowed to return to their places in the shelter, he quietly sneaked off to the kitten room. At least kittens were mellow and let you pet them and wouldn't fucking bark your ear off and try to pull your arm off. At least when kittens hated you, they only gave you contemptuous glances and the feline equivalent of rolled eyes.

He noticed right away how many tabbies there were. He bent down to stroke the tiny head of one that was batting a jingling ball around for a moment before crossing to the back of the room where there was a litter feeding. The mother was pure white, and the little kittens cuddling up to her stomach were all varying shades of gray. A black runt stuck out like a sore thumb among its siblings and against its mom's fur.

He pet that one's head until it stopped sucking for the milk and turned around to bite his hand. He pried it off and set it back down gently, leaving before the fucking thing could try and bite off the rest of his hand. He'd forgotten for a second there why he hated cats.

He checked back in with the front desk and the woman who was organizing papers told him to try and help Cassie with the cats that were recovering from surgery. He didn't know who Cassie was so he just walked into the room labeled surgical care and hoped for the best.

The room was kind of depressing, actually. It's tiny and obnoxiously bright, occupied by a few kittens a girl is using an eyedropper to feed, and a couple of older cats who have bandages around their stomachs. Probably ones recovering from being neutered, he thought, shuddering a little.

"Hey, are you Cassie?" He asked, taking a few steps into the room.  
The girl, obviously startled by his sudden appearance, accidentally squirted a few drops into the eye of the kitten she was feeding. "Uh, yeah, who are you?"

"Jaime. I was told to come work with you."

"Fabulous, can you come help feed the babies? I still have to check Stella for any infections," Cassie said, shoving a dropper into his hands along with a tiny cat.

He took the cat by the scruff and attempted to pry the mouth open with the eye dropper. After a couple agonizing seconds, it slowly opened its mouth to suckle and he very carefully squeezed out a drop.

"So what are you in here for?" Cassie asked, holding onto her own kitten carefully. Jaime did a quick 360 spin to make sure she was talking to him.

"I didn't do anything, just volunteering. Why, are you here for community service?"

Cassie groaned, setting the tabby down so she could gesture with sharp hand motions. "This entire thing is stupid. Thirty fucking hours? He was trying to rape my friend!"

Jaime, utterly confused, just nodded his head while she just ranted about the unfair justice system. After two hours, when the shelter finally closed and he started to grab his stuff to go home, Cassie ran up to him, her slip in her hand proudly proclaiming her five hours of service. "Are you coming back tomorrow?"

"I wasn't planning on-" He started but then shut his mouth and nodded. Perfect excuse to not go out with his friends to eat and get a little extra exercise. Cassie grinned, probably because she was glad to have someone that would listen to her prattle incessantly.


	2. Chapter 2

Every day that week, he went to the shelter. Eventually Bart caught on to the fact that he was busy and stopped asking him out to social outings, which he was fine with - he preferred talking to Cassie and taking care of the animals.

By the second day, he's adopting the damn black haired kitten because all the other ones are ganging up on the little guy and he almost instantly feels like he made the worst decision of his life. The fucking thing _eats_ his _pillows_.

Cassie gets relinquished from her duties of community service but he thinks she's fallen in love with mommy cats a bit too much because she keeps promising she's going to come back.

"I should celebrate this somehow," She says, looking at him curiously as he pulls his bag over his shoulder. When he glances at her, she whistles innocently while folding her community service slip so it'll fit into the pocket of her jeans.

"Party hard?" He asked, smiling a little.

She folded her arms, "Not really a party girl. I was thinking… ice cream." She smiled in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner figuring maybe he'd get the hint-

"Okay, well, have fun," Jaime said, and she groaned loudly, following him out the door.

"You know, it'd be way more fun if we went together, Jaime. We could get like strawberry or something-"

Jaime stopped, chewing on his lower lip before he shook his head. "No, I've got to go take care of Demon and I need to start a paper for French. Why don't you call some of your other friends?"

"_Because_," She stalled, waiting his face to break into a smile and tell her he was kidding and they could ride off into the sunset. Unfortunately, that didn't happen and she was standing there awkwardly with her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. "Iwanttogowithyou."

_Oh, fabulous job Cassie. You wonder why you don't have a boyfriend. _"Uh, nevermind."

Jaime sighed, and she thought maybe for a second he had a fleeting change of heart. Or, maybe he didn't think she had any friends. "Okay, I'll go. But I really do need to go check up on Demon first, okay?"

"Yeah, cool, can I come too?"

* * *

Cassie sat on the wood bench, next to Jaime, eating the chunks of strawberry that had been inbedded in the vanilla ice cream. Jaime kept picking up new napkins and throwing the old ones out.

The awkward silence was starting to get to him while he messed with the spoon of his ice cream and attempted to ask a well thought out, intellectual question, and instead it comes out as the worst fucking thing that could ever be asked. "What's your favorite color?"

He's chastising himself for even saying something so freaking dumb, while Cassie answers. "I like blue and red the most I guess," She said, eating another strawberry. "You?"

His brain short circuited. He knew it was blue but he couldn't just grasp onto the right word to say. So he just blurted out the first color that came to mind. "Uh, blonde."

She giggled, and he realized too late that it _wasn't_ a color.

"So what do you like to do when you aren't feeding baby cats?" She asked, smiling up at him.

"I work as a translator. And trust me, it is a lot more frustrating than it sounds."

Cassie smiled, licking off her spoon before throwing out the remainder of her blizzard. "What language? Spanish?"

"I'm working on French too - which is fucking terrible. But yeah, Spanish."

"Ooh! Can you show me some?"

Jaime hesitated, but did so, "Usted tiene ojos bonitos."

"What did you say?" She asked, but he only shook his head.

"So, what do you do when you aren't beating up guys?"

She tipped back on the bench. "I don't beat them up for fun! He was a douche." Cassie paused, thinking the rest of the question over. "In my spare time I read. I really like mystery novels."

"That's cool. What classes do you take in the college?"

She looked down awkwardly at her feet, "I haven't figured out what I major in yet. I'm just taking the basics, like English and Math."

"You'll get there," He said, then offered her the remainder of his ice cream. It was starting to get melty and it was getting harder to hide it in a napkin. And girls usually liked chocolate stuff when they were upset… right?

"You're sure you're done?" She asked, looking conspicuously at the chocolate chip and fudge mixture. When he nodded, she dug out a big spoonful, thanking him between cold swallows.

He threw his napkin out while they returned to the awkward silence they had previously been trapped in. Cassie finished up the cup of ice cream and shuffled her feet against the gravel.

"So-" He started, probably to offer to walk her home or something he hadn't -really made up his mind yet - when Cassie grabbed a vibrating phone from her pocket.

"Dad?"

Jaime wasn't sure why the entire atmosphere of nice-but-awkward had switched to get-out-while-you-can. There was a long pause while Cassie listened to the person on the opposite side.

"Yeah, thanks. Love you too."

She ended the call, stuffing her phone back into her jeans pocket. It took him several moments to notice she was crying. Not that bad, just silent streaks of tears down her cheeks, but he looped an arm around her shoulder and gently rocked her back and forth anyways. "What happened?"

"That was my dad. And, uhm, he called to wish me happy birthday."

"Why didn't you tell me? Happy Birthday." Now he knew why she wanted to go out for ice cream so bad.

Cassie shook her head. "Jaime, my birthday was three months ago," she whispered softly and he felt like an idiot.

"Well, he's a douchebag," He said, and Cassie giggled through her tears.


	3. Chapter 3

Turning down Bart was a hard enough task on its own. Trying to turn down Tim, Dick _and_ Jason was an impossible mission. Tim was easy enough to put down about not wanting to come over to the two-day celebration for Dick's bachelor party, he just made it sound like he had a test he really needed to study for. Unfortunately, Jason made him feel like shit by saying that this was the only time that he could get off to visit and he better come because Dick deserved at least that-

And, okay, maybe he cracked because Jason was fucking scary or maybe it was just because he was right. They should celebrate Dick getting married soon by all getting as smashed as possible, right?

The first day consisted of an all out celebration, where him and Zatanna both were there and it was a mix between boys and girls and so much alcohol everywhere that it took everything he had to keep turning down people. Eventually though, Jason shows up, shoves a beer into his hands and makes him drink while he watches.

If that isn't peer pressure, he has no idea what is.

After he's finished the first one, Jason hands him another one but goes off to mingle with some girls. He catches a girl that twines their arms together so that they're walking side-by-side. He watches around for a while, surprised by how warped everything looks after only been one beer. He used to have a _much _higher tolerance.

He's ready to go home about fifteen minutes after the beer, and he's been talking to some girl who is a friend of Zatanna's. He thinks her name is Raquel but his memory is sort of fuzzy. He checks around to make sure that Jason is nowhere to be found before he begins to duck out.

"Jaime," Jason says and he doesn't even sound fucking drunk. "Look, I haven't seen you in forever, so you better not think about ditching."

He nods even though all he wants is to leave, crawl under some blankets and sleep the rest of his natural life away.

"C'mon, let's go get some drinks," Jason says, and they walk over to the bar. Jason pours them both several shots.

"Thanks," He says, and his voice is barely audible while Jason swallows his first drink. He raises an eyebrow expectantly and Jaime slowly raises his to his lips, downing it in one long gulp.

"So how have you been? Still playing hockey?" Jason asked, slamming back another shot.

Jaime shrugged, fiddling with the empty glass. "Not as much. Who was that girl you were with?"

"Her name's Vivian. We've been going out for about seven months."

Jaime nodded, knocking back another few shots. Jason poured a few more, than thought about it. "Actually, should probably hang back, I've got to drive Vi to her aunt's house tomorrow."

"Does that mean I can leave now?" Jaime asked with a smile.

"Be my guest," Jason said, flourishing a hand towards the door. "You're walking though, right?"

Jaime nodded, even though the world was starting to dissolve into fuzzy lines and blurred faces. He could walk, right?

"Hey, Jaime," Jason said, leaning over the table they were at. "If you ever need anything, I'll be here for you.

"Dude, what the _hell_ are you smoking?" Jaime asked, smiling when Jason reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He held one out to Jaime, who just shook his head.

Jason shrugged, lighting his cigarette. "Well, see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, have fun."

He managed to make it to the front without too much trouble, and when he yanked the door open, the smell of piss, liquor and and pot invaded his senses. Several people were drinking and smashing the empty bottles, crushing them beneath their feet. He made his way onto the sidewalk, stumbling in the general direction of his apartment.

He tries to watch the pavement. It's easier than looking up at the blurry objects and indistinguishable light that make him want to vomit. Unfortunately, when drunk and ignoring your surroundings there's a tendency to run into things. He doesn't see the person until their face is mashed against his chest.

"Whoa, sorry, didn't see you - Cassie?"

He snaps his head up so fast he thinks he's going lose all the liquid he drank. He's just glad he didn't take Jason up on the cigarette - that would have made it a hundred times worse.

"Jaime! I didn't know you were here. I mean, I guess I just didn't see you," She babbled, patting down his sweatshirt as if she made wrinkles on it, face flushed.

"Were you just leaving?" He asks, and he suddenly has this brilliant idea to walk her home.

She slams her mouth shut, cutting off whatever bit of awkward monologue she'd been about to use next.

"Okay, then I'll walk you home."

"I live all the way down by South Beach. Tim was supposed to give me a ride but him and Bart passed out together in one of the rooms about an hour ago," She explains.

Logically, what he should do is call her a cab or tell her to stay at the mansion with Zatanna and the rest of them - they have loads of extra rooms. But with his head full of clouds it's so hard to think logically, and he blurts out, "You can come stay at my place", before he even really thinks about it. He can just sleep on the couch.

Cassie didn't seem to find any problem with it so they walked the two blocks to his apartment, and when he finally unlocked the door they stumbled in. Demon was sleeping on the back of the couch and he filled up the water dish with trembling hands.

He begins to pull things out of the linen closet; fuzzy blankets and pillows without covers. When he turns around, Cassie is right. Fucking. There.

"Hey, Jaime, can I tell you something?" Maybe it's just cause she's drunk but she's giggling hysterically after the question, not even waiting for his reply before continuing. "I like you. No, I _love_ you." She giggles again, waiting for his reaction.

When he doesn't reply, at a loss for how to even _beginning _to handle this situation, she leans forward, hesitantly brushing his lips against hers.

He jerks himself away at the contact, ashamed he's taking advantage of someone who's drunk. He needs to focus on getting clean things for her to sleep with.

"Jaime," She whispers, voice coming out in a needy whisper. And fuck it, he's wasted, she's drunk and it's not like he's forcing her to-

She grabs him around the neck, making him drop several inches so they're eye level, and thinking is suddenly not worth the effort. "Jaime, please?"

He kisses her, their tongues rolling together as if they've been doing this for years, and there's not a trace of guilt by the time they're pushing backwards onto his bed. They're stripping each other and he whispers _are you sure _over and over again because he might be drunk but he isn't an asshole. And every time he asks it, she gives this little nod of her head, leaning up so she can rest her head against his shoulder.

Her hips jerk under his when he pushes in and he's suddenly afraid that she's never had sex before, that this stupid drunk encounter could be her first. Her fingernails dig in against his skin, raking down his back when he leans in to kiss her and reassure her. He takes his time, moving slowly and taking care to kiss her and pull her into embraces.

When they finish, her breath coming out in tiny puffs from where she's curled against his chest. He wraps himself around her, already feeling himself falling under.


	4. Chapter 4

Blinking awake the next morning, Cassie stretched, looking for the time on her alarm clock. When she couldn't find it she came to the quick and uncomfortable realization that this wasn't her room, let alone her bed.

She began to peel the covers back, suddenly aware that she was stark fucking naked. She pulled off one of the smaller fuzzy blankets and wrapped it around her chest, thanking God that it went halfway down her thigh. She walked into what she hoped was a bathroom so she could at least pee before she had to pull on clothes from yesterday- oh god, was that a hickey?

She leaned in closer to the mirror, looking at the purple-red splotch on the skin between her neck and collarbone. Her mom was going to kill her. She was going to kill her _so_ fucking fast that the screams would still be echoing when the headstone was put up.

_Okay, don't freak out Cassie, you can just cover it up_, she looked around and noticed her bag on the floor of the bedroom she had been sleeping in. She inched her way in, snagged it and slowly retreated into the bathroom.

Apparently she managed to pack everything to survive a zombie apocalypse except extra clothes. Concealer was slightly higher on her list of priorities than clothing though, so she put that on first.

She could probably wear the jeans again when she left because jeans all looked pretty much the same. She'd just need to borrow a shirt or a hoodie to cover up hers. Then she could just sneak home real quick, change into clean clothes and go to her English class without her mother ever being the wiser.

_This could work_.

Inside the bedroom, she tried not to over think the fact that she slept with the only guy she's worked with that didn't think she was an awkward duck. On one hand that was good because she _really_ really liked him, on the other, life was probably about to get a hundred times more uncomfortable.

She pulled her jeans on, letting the blanket drop - because it's_ hard_ to pull on jeans while you're holding something in your other hand - figuring he'd already seen her naked anyways. Cassie wraps the blanket around herself again after she's slipped on her bra, and moves over to shake Jamie awake.

He awakens after a few violent budges, rubbing his head with the back of his palm. She can't imagine how he must feel - he'd drunk way more than her, and she's got a persistent headache accompanied by the overwhelming urge to vomit.

"I need to borrow a shirt," she says, and he points over to his closet where there are a couple hanging up (though most seem to be on the floor). She picks up a black one and tugs it over her head. It drops almost to her knees, and she rolls it up while fishing for a safety pin from her bag.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" He asks, and she actually hesitates a minute. She probably can't get in any more trouble with her mom anyways, so what's the harm in staying another hour? Wait - why does she even have to tell her mom?

"No, no, I _do_. I just, uh, can I call my mom real quick?"

When Jaime nodded she retreated into another room, pulling her phone from her bag and dialing.

"_Cassie_?!" Her mom yelled, and she flinched away from the noise. Since her mom worked as an archaeologist and was out at digs in different countries most of the time, Cassie still living there made sense to both of them. Her mom got someone to watch the house and Cassie didn't have to worry about rent or a dorm.

"Yeah, hi, I crashed at Zatanna's, sorry. I'm just gonna stay here and stay the night again 'cause of her bachelorette party."

"Okay, have fun," Helena said, and Cassie ended the call feeling entirely too smug with herself.

She put her phone back into her bag, walking back into the bedroom. She crawled under the covers, curling close to Jaime. "I could go back to sleep."

He kissed her forehead, "Sleep well."

* * *

He woke up to really fucking loud knocking. He ignored it for a couple of minutes, instead choosing to snuggle closer to the warm body next to him.

Eventually it stopped, and he let out a sigh of relief until he peeked an eye open to find Jason staring at him, hands on hips and Jason's girlfriend- Vivian- peering curiously at him.

"You should really consider more durable locks. I picked it in like ten seconds," Jason said, flashing a lock picking set. "Also, you're lucky I didn't kill your cat."

"He's demonic, don't worry about it," Jaime said, blinking a few more times before he decided he'd hallucinated his friend having a legit set of lock picks. "Can you hand me my jeans?"

Jason threw them at him, and waited for Jaime to yank them on under the covers. After a moment he got up, grabbing a hoodie to pull on as well, feeling painfully self conscious for the few moments his skin was exposed.

"Have fun last night?" Jason asked, head jerking in the direction towards Cassie.

Jaime massaged his temples, "I don't even remember most of it."

"Yeah, that can happen with alcohol-"

Vivian giggled, "He sang _Walking On Sunshine_ on the way home, threw up on himself, and then passed out."

"Yeah, one of my asshole brothers slipped ecstasy in my drink last night and I guess I crashed pretty damn hard," Jason mumbled, ruffling Vivian's hair. "I just woke up like forty-five minutes ago."

"Yeah, you were fucked up last night. Something about me tying you up-" Vivian started, before Jason quickly shushed her.

"So who's the chick?" Jason asked, gesturing to Cassie.

"Uh, Cassie. She was just supposed to just stay the night… I think."

"You guys dating?" Jason asked, wincing when Vivian leaned up to braid tiny parts of his hair.

Jaime shook his head, readjusting his hoodie nervously. It was hard to focus on anything other than how they'd _seen _him shirtless, in the bright light filtering in through the curtains.

"We should double date sometime," Vivian interjected excitedly, "I mean, if you wanna."

Jason shrugged. "Ready to go to Dick's bachelor party?"

* * *

When Jaime got home, dumping his apartment keys in a bowl by the door, he was surprised to see Demon's dishes filled and Cassie sitting on his couch, flipping through channels on the TV and eating a piece of cake.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" He asked, and when it was out in the air he felt like it was way harsher than he'd meant it to be.

"I just… wanted to see you again," Cassie said, licking off her fork. "Besides, we kind of had sex, so I thought maybe we should go out sometime?"


	5. Chapter 5

So, one date turned into two, three, and four and soon she's spending nights at his house after watching some-movie-he-can't-remember-the-name-of starring the guy who played Captain Pigeon from those pirate movies. She's taken to walking into his house whenever she feels like it because she's seen him naked and somehow that makes it okay?

The days melt into weeks which congeal into months, and somehow she's still there, not pissed at him or wanting to break things off or just there because he gives head like most of his old relationships.

The semester ends and he somehow passes French with flying colors and it's added onto his little translator certificate thing that he's certified for that language as well (even though he's just really really good at asking where the bathroom is and that's about it). He spends most of the first few weeks of summer trying to sort out the translations for various costumers while Cassie leans against his shoulder, watching old Disney and DreamWorks movies with the occasional Pixar.

He knows this fairy tale has to end sooner or later, unfortunately. Knows that eventually Cassie will notice him pushing around his food on his plate at dinner or denying that he wants snacks at the movies (even when she catches him making eyes at the candy selection). But he wants to live in this dreamland where he's normal, where he's happy, for as long as he possibly can.

It doesn't take long for her to notice, though longer than he'd hoped for. About four months of dating when she brings up the topic of food. He thinks it's random, but he answers every question with small words and short sentences and hopes she'll drop it. She doesn't.

"All I'm saying is I've never seen you eat a blueberry muffin," She finally says, and her eyes dart to look at everything but him. "Or anything, for that matter."

"I have too. You saw me eat yesterday when you made that, uhm, stuff," He says, frowning in trying to remember. He thinks it was burgers but he really doesn't want to take that leap of faith.

"It wasn't stuff, it was Swiss and mushroom burgers. And all you did was pick at the mushrooms and then decide you didn't want to eat it."

"Okay, fine, it was disgusting. Happy I said it now?" He asked, trying to go back to watching whatever the hell was on TV. Cassie stepped in front of the screen just as Rachel McAdams came on screen and he could see this wasn't going away with a couple of lies.

"Jaime, if you have a problem, you can tell me-"

"I. Don't. Have. A. Problem." Jaime growled out, and Cassie frowned.

"Jaime, please. I don't want you hurting yourself. Even Jason says he's noticed you haven't been eating and he was in town for less than forty-eight hours!"

"He's delirious," He says simply, changing the channel. Some reality TV show blares through the speakers and he suddenly can't help but think that this is all hilarious. Usually people are being carted off to therapy appointments and having interventions within the first ten minutes of someone bringing up the 'problem'. Which, for the record, he didn't have.

Cassie flops down next to him on the couch, reaching under the blanket he's been huddled under since she turned on the air conditioning. His first thought is that she's going to try and jerk him off or something(not an unwelcome idea), until he feels her hand creep up his shirt and stop at his ribs.

"I can feel every single one," She says, hand gliding over the bones. It's such a weird sensation, and he tries not to wiggle away from it. "Jason said you were on hockey team, right? You shouldn't be this skinny."

"I've always been awkwardly thin," He mumbles, closing his eyes, relaxing into the calming exploration - he's tired, bone dead tired, always is really. Her hands stop moving and despite being already half asleep he pries his eyelids open to look at her.

"Jaime, you need help. I don't know why you're starving yourself- you're really good looking as it is, but you're so thin. It isn't healthy."

"Cassie, please, just drop the subject. I'm fine, stop worrying so much." He hopes she'll stop this because he seriously doesn't want to fight. Especially not with his girlfriend, the first one that things were actually going good with.

She doesn't though, the words defined by the increasingly frustrated tone as they slide over him. He takes several deep breaths to refrain from kicking her out of his house right now, because he isn't up for this, he just wants to sleep and maybe worry about how his hair is starting to come out. They can work this out, right? No need to start accusing people and making threats.

"Jaime, just admit you have a problem," She finally snaps.

"Right after you do," He says easily, and a second later he feels the guilt settle in. He shouldn't have to bring her daddy-issues into this fight, it's not even . Especially since this isn't even about her, much less her terrible father.

She recoils back. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, never mind. Just go back to watching, uh, White Collar, and we can just pretend this entire fight didn't happen," He tries, gesturing to the TV with the remote in his hand.

She yanks the remote from his hand, turns the TV off and stuffs it down the front of her shirt. Great now he can't turn it back on without sexually assaulting her. "Admit you have a problem and say that you will go get help or I'm walking out that door and not coming back."

"Cassie-"

"You have five seconds to decide, and then I'm just going to leave. Five, four, three-"

"I don't have a problem," He insists again, and this time she chucks the remote at his head with so much force that if he hadn't managed to dodge it, it probably would have caused some serious brain damage. The door slams shut just as he's getting up to remove it from where it was sticking out of a brand new hole in his wall.

He waits a couple of minutes, wondering if maybe this is all just some horrible dream and he's going to wake up and find Cassie still sleeping peacefully next to him.

He closes his eyes and doesn't open them for a very long time.


	6. Chapter 6

_To the anon who left this review: ummm why do you even ship wonderbeetle? cassie is with tim and jaime likes bart.. wonderbeetle is so stupid, _

_I must disagree with all of the points you made. I would also like to advise you to not go onto fanfic of pairings you don't like just to post ship hate. It may give people the impression that you're a whiny pissbaby who goes out of their way to be mean to other people over their interests, and may even make them think that you're an asshole who just enjoys ruining things for others. To avoid making people think that you're a disrespectful douchebag unable to utilize the English language in an appropriate manner, I suggest you do not leave such reviews in the future._

* * *

For several days after his and Cassie's separation, Jaime took it upon himself to cut eating completely out. His fridge was empty, so it wasn't like it was hard. He busied himself jogging with earbuds in, doing workout videos from youtube and that he found in the back of his closet, and sleeping.

The afternoon of the third day, he notices it when he's brushing his hair. It had been getting more fragile lately, brittle, but he'd gotten nicer shampoo and it had helped. But as he runs the comb through, strands of hair fall out one after another until his hand is coated in them and he just grabs the first pair of scissors he sees and chops it all off as close to the scalp as he can.

Strands and wisps of the dark hair litter the floor, while he works on making it look like he didn't just hack it off. When he's done, he notices how light-headed he feels, but blames it on losing so much hair.

He sweeps the mess up and lays back down in bed. It won't be too bad if he skips out on one day of jogging, right? He's ready to go back to sleep for the night (at one in the afternoon). Unfortunately, his phone won't let him and it buzzes incessantly against his thigh in his pocket.

He digs it out and skims the text. Going to your place. See you at 3. He rolls his eyes, thinking Jason texted the wrong person (he does that a lot), and let himself slip off into nothing.

When he wakes up, Jason is shaking him by the shoulder, kneeling down next to him. Demon jumps onto his chest, scraping his unsheathed claws down his stomach.

"What?" He asks, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"Time to get up, sleeping beauty. We need to talk."

Jaime groaned, slowly getting out of the warm bed. Demon does a little butt wiggle before jumping up onto his shoulder and and curling up there protectively. "Is Vivian here too?"

"She's in the living room. C'mon, move your ass."

"What time is it?"

Jason impatiently checked his watch. "Two forty-seven."

"Thanks," Jaime mumbled, walking down the hall sleepily. The living room had been rearranged, he noticed. The couch had been pushed against the wall and foldable chairs had been sat around. Vivian sat in one of the far chairs, playing with a lighter. Demon sprang off him and into one of the chairs.

"What the hell is this?" He asks, turning towards Jason.

"Chairs. So shut your fucking trap and sit your ass down."

Jaime glared at him before slowly sinking down into the nearest one, Demon switching from his own chair and onto Jaime's lap almost immediately. Jason took a seat also, and Jaime does a quick count of the chairs. Six remaining.

There was a knock on the door. Jason glared at Jaime as if willing him to go and open it, but after a moment of uncomfortable silence Vivian gets up instead.

Bart and Tim come in, took seats, and Jaime observed them with narrow eyes. He was pretty sure the shirt Bart was wearing was Tim's. After that was Tye, who he hadn't seen in what seemed like years, Conner, and Cassie.

They waited several minutes in more uncomfortable silence (during which Jaime started to fall asleep again), and when it seemed like the last person wasn't coming, Jason started in. "Okay, so, Jaime, I think you have a general idea of why we're here."

"Yeah, dude, do you know how unhealthy it is to not eat? You could end up in the hospital, or worse," Bart said, leaning forward in his chair.

Jaime sulked. There was no need to try and defend himself, none of them would listen anyways.

"You cut your hair," Vivian said simply. He nodded, because he felt like this was way bigger than just a casual statement. "Why?"

"I, uh, felt like a change."

"You didn't cut it because it was falling out?" She asked. "Jaime, it's falling out because you're anorexic. Mine did the same thing during high school. I shaved my head when I was in tenth grade so no one would notice."

"You're anorexic?" He asks, and he watches her shift uncomfortably.

"No, I was. My friends made me turn it around when I was hospitalized after I refused to eat anything for an entire week."

Jaime suddenly shook his head. Lies. It was all just one big lie spun before hand to make him feel guilty. Trying to empathize with him with 'similar' sob stories. He wasn't sick, he was just on a diet.

"Jaime-"

He went to go up and move. Go back to bed or go for a jog, when Cassie snatches onto his hand, dragging him back down so he's back in his chair. "Listen, you fuckwit, we all care about you. A lot. So stop acting like you couldn't care less. We want you to get better, all you have to do is work with us."

"Cassie, let him go," Tim said, and the death grip she had on his hand loosened and then fell away. She looked away when he tried to catch her gaze. "Jaime, it's going to be fine."

"Yeah, I'm sure we're all imaging this entire eating disorder," Tye said with a roll of his eyes. He moved a piece of long hair out of his face. "Jaime, just... trust us."

Jaime closed his eyes, trying to remember the last time he put his faith in their hands. He remember he had scored, only to get the shit beat out of him ten seconds later. Tye and Jason either hadn't noticed, or didn't care. "No thanks."

"Jaime Reyes, you are going for at least an appointment, even if I have to drag your ass there myself!" Cassie shouted, and the room seemed starkly quiet afterwards. "Please. Just let us help you."

He goes to stand. Maybe he means to yell at her or shoo them all out of his house, but he stands too fast and dizziness slams into him before the room goes dark.

* * *

When he finally comes to, hours later, his living room is back to its normal arrangement, and almost everyone is gone. Cassie is laying against his chest, listening to his heart. He doesn't have the strength to push her off, so he just settles on stroking her hair.

"Your appointment is at nine tomorrow morning," she says, leaning up to kiss him. "I'm gonna go too, for moral support. If you want, of course."

He nodded his head, because it was too much effort to protest when he just wants to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

"Jaime Reyes?" A nurse asked, peering out of the door into the waiting room. Cassie gently pushed Jaime up, following him into a new room.

"We're just gonna check your height, kay?" She asks, and he backs up against a wall with a couple of height markers. He just barely goes over the 6ft mark.

The nurse set her clipboard aside on a table, and Cassie sat down in one of the chairs set for anyone else attending. "Okay, can I just get you to step on that scale real quick, and then I'll take your blood pressure."

Jaime looked at Cassie, who gave him a sympathetic smile. He took a deep breath, and stepped onto the black device. The numbers randomized for a second before they finally settled down. 128.3. The nurse jotted the numbers down before setting him down and tying the blood pressure cuff around his arm. He didn't see the number before she set it aside, but he assumed it was normal.

The nurse showed him to a different room where he was to sit and wait for the doctor. He tapped his hands on his knees impatiently.

"it's gonna be fine, Jaime," Cassie said, giving him a quick, gentle squeeze. He tried to look happy but it was really hard. What if they decided he was actually sick and didn't listen to him? What if they made Cassie go away?

He tried to clear his head when the doctor walked in. She looked about mid forties, and she washed her hands and applied latex gloves before sitting down in her chair. "So, Jaime, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," He said, and it came out too quickly and he hoped she didn't pick up on his stress.

"Okay, I'm going to check your heart rate real quick, then we'll do something with these things," She said, gesturing to a couple of tiny liquid bottles.

She timed his heart by pressing a couple of forefingers to his wrist and keeping track on her wristwatch. After she wrote that down she reached for the liquid bottles and then began to put tiny drops of the colored liquids on his tongue. He didn't taste anything with them. She made a note on her clipboard.

"Alright, Mr. Reyes, from what I've gathered you're dangerously underweight. I'm going to suggest a psychiatric evaluation. You may have to go away for a while, just until you reach a healthy weight."

The doctor took them to a waiting room, and after two hours an official looking man appeared to talk to Jaime. Cassie had to leave the room, but when she came back Jaime was fuming and the official looking man handed her his number and some printed instructions.

They went to the car, and Cassie slid into the driver's seat. Basically, they had tonight to get Jaime packed up before he went to a hospital. She broke the awkward silence eventually, voice feeling too loud.

"Are you okay?"

"No," He said, folding his arms against his chest.

"I'm sorry," She replied, turning on the car with a quick twist of her wrist. "But you need to get better. Let's go pack up your stuff."

Jaime sighed and leaned back in his seat. "I'm not happy about this."

"I'll visit you," Cassie said, and gave him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder.

"Still not happy."

* * *

Since Jaime - in his words - wasn't about to put a nail in his own coffin, Cassie busied herself with folding his shirts and hunting down a spare toothbrush for him to pack in his suitcase.

"It's just, for like, a month," She said, attempting to sooth him. If any thing that made him feel worse and he just laid down in his bed, and duct taped his wrist to the headboard.

"It's eternity," He whined, while she worked on getting the damned tape off. "Forever. Alone. No Demon. No you. Just me. And_ food_."

She managed to get the sticky part of and worked on unraveling it from his wrist. "Stop trying to see it as such a negative thing."

"I'm not _trying _to see it as anything. It just _is._" He said venomously, and she rolled her eyes, pulling the remainder of the silver tape off his wrist. He massaged it carefully.

"You're getting better. For yourself, your family, _everyone_. Now help me finish up your packing, please."

He pulled some hoodies from the closet and threw them into the luggage, Cassie immediately pulling them back out to fold. "I still hate this."

"Well, fine, hate it. I don't care. But I'm going to visit you and you're going to get better, and that's it."

"Fine, then I just won't eat," He said, crossing his arms.

Cassie crossed her arms, one of his shirts still in her closed fist. "Y'know, you're acting like a child. You have to eat or else you will die. Don't you understand that? What about when you fainted yesterday? Huh? You think that was just because of some over-exertion? Jason said you were sleeping when he came over so obviously you weren't and you have just been boycotting eating! Again!"

"You broke up with me," He said. And, wow, that sounds lame and really manipulative and he feels like a dick as she falters and curls inward like he just punched her in the stomach.

"Yeah, I know, I shouldn't have done that, but I'm sorry, and I'll work on not being so hot-headed if you work on getting better, _please,"_ She says, grabbing onto his hand and giving it a squeeze.

He looks down at the half packed case and closes his eyes. "Alright, fine."


End file.
